Yet the very first thing she had done after Arlorran’s summoning was try again to murder Danielle.
She knelt next to Charlotte, whose face was turned away so that only her scarred eye was visible.
“Careful,” Talia said. She held her sword so that Charlotte could see the sinuous curve of steel.
“Why, Charlotte?” Danielle asked.
Tears began to drip down Charlotte’s face. Danielle stared. Not once had she seen her stepsister cry, not even at her own mother’s funeral.
“It’s not fair,” Charlotte whispered. “You had everything.”
For several moments, Danielle was too stunned to answer. “
I
had everything.
I
, who cooked your meals and cleaned your home and tended your hair and—”
“I should have been Princess Whiteshore,” said Charlotte. “I would have been, if you hadn’t cheated me. You and your dead mother.”
Danielle flinched. “My mother is gone. Destroyed by the Chirka you summoned.”
“Gone?” Charlotte looked up, and for an instant, sympathy pushed the hate from her eyes. Then her expression hardened again. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You’ve taken everything from me.”
“Is that why you took Armand?” Talia asked. “To reclaim what you thought was yours?”
A yellow pixie flew out of the tunnel. His flight was erratic, looping and spinning in every direction. He nearly collided with Talia before flittering past. He muttered an apology, but the words were too fast for Danielle to make out. He sounded like a hiccuping sparrow.
“Perhaps this isn’t the ideal place for your interrogation,” Arlorran said gently.
Talia nodded. “So take us somewhere better.”
The gnome rubbed his beard. “I already offered to take you back to my place. You said you weren’t interested. Besides, shouldn’t you be worrying about your witch there?”
“Arlorran, we need your help,” said Danielle. “You made a deal.”
“Aye, and I did my part. I summoned the girl.”
Snow looked up, an innocent smile on her face. “Technically, that wasn’t the deal. You said, ‘You give me wings so I can fly, and I’ll do my best to help you.’ You never specified what kind of help.”
Arlorran removed his cap and rubbed his scalp. “Did I say that? Well that hardly seems fair, taking advantage of a poor, drunken gnome. I meant—”
“How many fairies have done the same to poor, naïve mortals over the centuries?” Talia asked. “You made a promise. So long as we need your help, you’re bound to provide it.”
Arlorran scowled, and his little hands balled into fists, crumpling his cap. He looked like he wanted to run over and strangle Talia with his bare hands, though he was far too short to reach her throat. Still, he looked ready to give her kneecaps a good thrashing.
“Please,” said Danielle.
Arlorran threw his cap on the ground. “Should have pushed you over the edge myself,” he muttered. “As for you,” he added, glaring at Snow. “That’s the last time I stay up all night, telling you old gnomish romance tales.” He stomped to the center of the platform. “Well, come on, then. I haven’t got all year.”
Danielle glanced at the others. Snow shrugged and hauled Charlotte to her feet.
“Not so hard, you stupid wench,” Charlotte complained. How many times had Danielle heard that same curse?
Talia gathered up their belongings, never taking her eye from Charlotte.
“Take my hands,” said Arlorran. “Everyone touching. A little closer, if you don’t mind. Wouldn’t want anyone to get left behind.”
Danielle took one of the gnome’s hands in hers, then put her other hand on Snow’s arm. Talia did the same on Arlorran’s other side, leaving Snow’s hands free to hold Charlotte. Charlotte tried to tug away, but a quick yank of her bound wrists pulled her back, scowling and swearing under her breath.
“These had better be some wings,” Arlorran muttered. He sighed, whispered something under his breath, and then they were falling.
Danielle had barely drawn breath when she found herself in darkness, standing on what felt like stone. She had already bent her legs, preparing for an impact that never came, and only Arlorran’s grip kept her from losing her balance completely. The smell of stale fish filled her nostrils, knotting her stomach.
“Easy now, ladies,” Arlorran said. “Just give me a moment or two to light a lantern.”
Before he could, light blossomed from Snow’s choker.
“Sure, that works, too,” said Arlorran. “Sorry about the smell.” He ducked through an arched doorway in the wall. Thick, lambskin carpeting covered the floor in the next room, muffling his footsteps. There was a clanking sound, and he returned moments later, brushing his hands together. “Cranked open the chimneys. Ought to get a little more air moving soon.” He looked sheepish. “I broiled up some rice and kraken last night. Old undine recipe. Spicy enough to burn the tongue out of your head, but the smell gets into everything.”
“Sounds like your kind of food,” Snow said to Talia.
Talia ignored her. “Where are we?”
“Home. The bedroom, to be precise. Where else would I go with four lovely ladies in tow?” He pointed to Charlotte. “Just make sure that one stays tied up. Too bloodthirsty for my taste.”
“And you’re too short and ugly for mine,” said Charlotte.
“Take her necklace,” Danielle said. “I’m not sure what it is, but it helps her cast her spells.”
“Done.” Talia yanked the stone from around Charlotte’s neck and handed it to Snow. She gripped Charlotte above the elbow and turned back to Arlorran. “I meant where in Fairytown.”
“Ten, maybe fifteen miles west of the goblin checkpoint,” said Arlorran. “Right on the border between gnomish land and the woods the satyrs claim as their own.” He winked at Snow. “They say I’ve got satyr blood in me. Did I ever tell you that? Some say it makes me hardheaded, but there are other traits, if you know what I mean.”
Charlotte wrinkled her nose and turned away. “This is little better than a rathole.”
Danielle looked around. Arlorran’s home appeared to be a small cave. They had arrived in the center of the bedroom, where the domed ceiling was highest, and even here Danielle’s head almost brushed the stone. Pink quartz lined the walls and ceiling, sparkling in the light of Snow’s choker.
Danielle peered more closely at one patch of quartz. What she had first taken to be jagged irregularities in the rock were really carvings: dragons and horses and fairies and castles, most no bigger than her thumb, all carved with excruciating detail. “They’re marvelous. Did you do this?”
Arlorran nodded, grinning. “That one to your left there shows me and the queen, the day she appointed me Royal Summoner. There you go, the one with the gold wire around her head. Best I could do for a crown.”
All the carvings were inverted, so they appeared to be standing on the ceiling. Danielle craned her head, studying the tiny figures. The smaller of the two resembled Arlorran with a shorter beard. The larger was a well-built woman with a long, flowing gown. A line of gold around her brow provided one of the only details not carved from the quartz.
“You need to lie down to see them properly,” Arlorran said, pointing to the bed. He hopped onto the low mattress and patted the quilts. “Care to join me? I’ll show you all kinds of marvels.”
Snow giggled and jumped on to the bed beside him, landing so hard she bounced him to the floor. The light of her choker made her face even paler than normal, like a ghost. “Look, Talia. Griffins!” She pointed to the wall, where a flock of griffins appeared to fly in a V formation.
“Do you think we could question the would-be assassin before we admire the art?” Talia asked. “Have you figured out what that necklace is yet?”
“It’s blood-bound to Charlotte and one other, I’m not sure who,” Snow said.
“Stacia?” Danielle guessed.
“No.” She held the stone to the light. “It’s a teaching trick, a way to help a young witch learn. The stone is bound to whoever has been helping Charlotte with her magic.”
“Did the troll give this to you?” Danielle asked. Charlotte pressed her lips together and turned away.
“Snow, can you use that rock to find whoever’s been teaching her?” Talia asked.
Snow shook her head. “Not unless she’s actually using it, and I don’t think we want that.” She tucked the necklace into her pocket and glanced at Arlorran. “Speaking of tricks, how did you bring us here?”
“Summoning magic.” Arlorran brushed himself off and walked over to sit on a small trunk by the wall.
Snow frowned. “I thought you could only summon others, or enchant them to respond to a summons, like you did with Diglet.”
Arlorran stared at the carvings on the far wall. “Aren’t there places that
call
to you, Princess? Places you belong?”
“My library,” said Snow.
Danielle thought of her father’s house, the way it had been before he remarried. Full of color, the sunlight sparkling from vases and bottles and window-panes of all shapes and sizes. The smell of the smoke, the way the air rippled when he stoked the fire to blow a new vase.
“Only a few places I can summon myself to and from. The Tipsy Oak’s one. The queen’s palace is another. And this old place.” Arlorran patted the wall. “Built it myself, back when your grandparents were still learning to walk. No way in or out, aside from magic. So do what you have to do, but if anything happens to me, there’s a good chance you’ll breathe your last down here.” He looked at Charlotte as he said that last.
“We’re trapped here?” Charlotte stared at the ceiling, like she expected it to collapse at any moment. “Buried underground, like animals?”
“Tell us where Armand is,” said Talia, “and maybe you’ll see daylight again some day.”
Charlotte shook her head. “I
can’t
.”
With a disgusted snort, Talia turned to Snow. “Make sure she doesn’t have any more magical surprises waiting for us.”
Snow knelt on the end of the bed and stared at Charlotte. For a time, neither one moved. Then, with no trace of modesty or embarrassment, Snow reached out and yanked Charlotte’s collar, tearing the shirt.
“Careful, you clumsy wench,” Charlotte snapped. She tried to pull away, but Talia held her fast.
Snow pulled again, exposing Charlotte’s left shoulder, where a strawberry-colored mark the size of a coin marred her skin.
“Fairy mark,” Snow said. Her light seemed to brighten on the mark. “I’ve read about them, but I’ve never seen one. It’s the human equivalent of a fairy contract. If she breaks it, bad things will happen.”
“What kind of things?” asked Danielle.
“Depends on the fairy.” Snow pressed a fingernail to Charlotte’s shoulder. The skin around the mark whitened, but the mark itself didn’t change. “Her hair could fall out. She could be transformed into a trout. Her blood could boil, or her boils could bleed. She could lose bladder control.”
“Not in my bedroom, she doesn’t,” Arlorran snapped.
Charlotte glared at the gnome, her expression so full of hate that Arlorran actually took a step back. “Snow White lacks imagination,” she said.
“Sounds like your friends don’t trust you to keep your mouth shut,” said Talia. “Snow, can you tell who cast the mark? This is our proof the fairies are involved.”
Snow gave the skin a sharp pinch. “It will take time. And a human could have cast the mark, too, with training.” She closed her eyes. “I don’t sense any other magic on her. She’s safe.”
Talia sighed. “If it’s not too much trouble, do you think you could take the knife strapped to her leg, too?”
Snow grabbed the knife. “You only said to search her for magic.”
“Now, then,” said Talia. “You’re going to tell us where we can find the prince.” She held up one finger when Charlotte started to protest. “You tried to assassinate the princess, and you kidnapped the prince. That gives me the right to execute you on the spot. Twice. Whatever curse that mark carries, Snow here will do her best to protect you. She won’t protect you from me.”
“What does it matter?” Charlotte turned toward Danielle. “He doesn’t love you anymore.”
Charlotte’s tone was far too vicious for idle words. She was telling the truth. Danielle thought back to what Trittibar had said about using Armand to get Charlotte and Stacia into Fairytown.
Not once in her life had Danielle given Charlotte the satisfaction of showing how deeply her words cut. Rarely had it taken such effort to keep her voice steady. “Yes, we know about the love spell,” she said, praying she was wrong but knowing deep down her guess was correct. “We found Brahkop. We know what you and Stacia did.”
Charlotte’s eyes widened, and she bit her lower lip. Unlike Danielle, Charlotte had never learned to hide her emotions. Until today, the only person Charlotte had ever feared was her mother. Danielle felt slightly ill to see that same fear directed at her.
She knelt beside the bed. “I understand why you wanted to take Armand, but why did you destroy my mother?”